


fly high (but please don't fly away)

by acumirklis



Series: oneshots [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream is an asshole, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Manipulative Relationship, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tommy needs a hug, stay safe, tommy's stream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acumirklis/pseuds/acumirklis
Summary: Dream had broken parts of him.So, Tommy was going to cut him with the shards.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122416
Comments: 18
Kudos: 427





	fly high (but please don't fly away)

**Author's Note:**

> oh well, idk either.
> 
> i watched tommy's stream and that specific part made me pretty emotional, so i decided to just...write. this is barely edited so beware, it's not good. i spaced out while writing it, so yeah. i still felt like sharing, since i don't want this to just rot in my drafts.
> 
> TW: look at the tags. please be careful, and stay safe. you're loved and it's okay to reach out for help if you are feeling like things are taking a wrong turn. take care <3

The air felt like needles piercing through his skin.

Tommy inhaled sharply, closing his eyes briefly. It was so cold; the wind was ruffling his hair, and he felt chills all over his body. A shiver ran down his spine as he opened his eyes again, hands shaking ever-so-slightly.

He looked down; there was his base. Partly blown to shreds. Something painful struck his heart as he looked at the sight; it was pathetic. So pathetic, it was a remnant of something that was never even great in the first place.

But had been his house, hadn't it? He'd hidden the things he held dearest to his heart below it, he had hidden it from Dream. Tommy had lost everything, he was so alone, and that was all he had; all he cared about.

Blown up, destroyed, gone. He was alone again; so very alone.

And Dream, his only friend? How could he have done it? Cruel, he was such a cruel man, but Tommy had apologized. He'd apologized, why did his friend refuse to forgive? Why did he keep going, why did he hurt Tommy again? He was hurt enough; the loneliness and his fears were getting to his head.

Could anyone even imagine living in isolation? All of a sudden be stripped from everyone, put in a place where it was just you and your thoughts? How over time, cracks in your soul would show, and you'd miss human contact so much, if someone was to touch you, you'd burn.

His chest was so hollow; only the ghost of pain still lingered from time to time. It was empty, and Tommy hated it; the more time he spent alone, the more he started to forget what it even felt like to be truly alive.

He looked over to his new home; he looked over to his prison. It seemed so normal; pretty even. He'd often joke about it; he'd often act as if it was okay. But was it? No, Tommy hated the place; in his life, he'd never loathed anything more. When Dream had started blowing it up, oh, aside from the fear and hurt, he'd felt a sense of calm, a sense of satisfaction. Only a little, but it was enough to spark something within him; to ignite a fire.

The air was so cold against his skin, and he was freezing. His clothes were torn, his hair ruffled, he had bruises all over his body. Goosebumps covered his skin as he gently wrapped his arms around his frail body, looking at the sunset.

It was beautiful; a magical sight. He was so high up; he could watch the sunset in its entirety.

Calming, it was calming, in an odd way. Tommy was so very cold; but the sun was warm. So far away, but still able to provide him the small amount of warmth he needed.

His home looked so destroyed; it was. There was so much chaos, it almost lived up to the inner turmoil Tommy felt.

Because really; he was up there for a reason.

Block for block, he'd built his way up, trying to reach for the stars, trying to say goodbye to the sun.

Dream, his friend, he'd visited him. He was the only one to visit; he cared. But why did he hurt Tommy so much? Why did he destroy the one thing he had left, the one thing keeping him from just giving up?

Dream was cruel; Tommy hated himself for thinking that. You don't judge your friend like that, you don't call your friend that. He was such a bad person.

Tommy was scared; maybe Dream could hear his thoughts, maybe he'd return, would he be mad?

But really, before Dream had visited, Tommy had had a plan; did he forget already?

He didn't know what he'd wanted; run away? Hide?

No, that was not it. He couldn't have run, not when Dream cared so much, not when Dream was his best friend, he'd worry.

But he had wanted for it to stop. Still did.

At night, Tommy didn't sleep. He lied in bed, staring at the wall. He'd hear noises outside, yet he wouldn't move the entire night. Deep down, he hoped to wake up from a nightmare.

It was always cold; his blanket didn't warm him up. Those past days, he'd always been cold, even when the sun was high in the sky, trying to warm him, to comfort him.

He missed them. He missed his home. He missed feeling warm and safe at night.

Tommy missed life. Because, what was this? It wasn't something worth living for, it was torture.

Was it really his fault? Could he have somehow prevented it, should he have?

But why did his friends do this to him, didn't they care? Wouldn't they feel sad if he was gone?

Tommy swallowed a sob as he carefully took out his maps, looking at them. He smiled, ever so gently, allowing himself to bask in the faint feeling of warm memories.

Dream may have blown up his house, he may have taken his armour and his things, but he still had this; he still had his friends, his home. Even when it was a momentary memory, forever captured on a delicate piece of paper, frozen in time so he could gaze upon it, and tell himself that he was there, with them.

It didn't last long, reality always caught up way too quickly.

Tommy felt ridiculous; he was such a failure. They didn't care, did they? They hadn't visited him once, they'd never checked up on him, no one had, but Dream.

Tommy looked down and noticed from the corner of his eyes how the night was slowly trading places with the day, but he was too busy being mesmerized.

He felt like he could breathe, finally, after days of suffocation; so high up, he felt free.

Tommy believed he could do anything, he felt like he could forget and start all over.

But what use would that be?

Tommy was alone. His friends had left him, he was so far from home. He'd lost everything he had, and he had no idea if he'd be able to ever get it back.

Isolation was agony; Tommy was imprisoned by the people he'd trusted.

There were those thoughts he'd get, sometimes. At first, he didn't pay them much mind; they seemed useless, scary even.

But sometimes, during some moments, Tommy would forget to tune them out, forget to ignore them. And his body would gravitate towards its goal, its desire.

It had been frightening; how he hadn't even realized he'd stepped so close to the edge. The lava had looked so hypnotizing, so very welcoming and warm. The thought of falling and feeling himself be so weightless and liberated, Tommy had shut out any coherent thought, he'd let his body take over.

If Dream hadn't punched him aside, would he have done it? And, would it have been good if he had? Maybe, just maybe, it would have been at least one thing he'd been able to do right for once.

But this? It was no longer just his body; it was his entire being desiring to stand as close to the edge as he could, to breathe in the coldness and feel it travel down his body, his veins, to feel himself come to life.

Dream had said he wouldn't do it. Dream had been mad; he'd told him he'd not visit every day. He told Tommy to start from scratch, he'd told Tommy to be even more alone. And for what, a pathetic memory he'd tried to hold onto in secret, a desire he'd prayed for Dream not to discover?

But as always; Dream knew. He always knew.

But he cared, right? He was Tommy's friend; he was there for him.

He'd come back, he'd come back and Tommy could laugh again.

But would Tommy be there to laugh?

The edge was mocking him, he felt his body being pulled toward it. He complied, and he felt his limbs shake in excitement.

He wasn't sad, he wasn't empty anymore; this felt oddly right.

He wasn't scared of the height. Instead of wanting to be as far away from the edge as possible, he wanted to be close, ever so close. As close as he could get.

Nothing mattered anymore, did it? Tommy had lost all that he had, and he was punished for trying to have something to help his heart heal.

It was useless, this was pointless. Did Dream think him to be weak? Did he think Tommy wouldn't take one more step forward, close his eyes and remember happier times, flying like a bird set free?

Or did Dream think him to be strong; strong enough to stay away, stay on the ground, fight off the poison in his head, the agony in his wounded heart.

Tommy didn't care to know. All he cared about was that decision, that thought in his head. That small wish to spite everyone, yet also make them happy. Would this make them happy?

It would be so easy; all he had to do was inch a little forward.

He'd built this tower himself, with the last power he felt in his limbs.

He hadn't eaten all day, it wasn't as if he was able to taste anything anymore, anyway. He’d long lost his appetite.

The Christmas tree glistened with so much pity at him, Tommy wanted to see it burn. It reminded him of his home; with the Christmas tree he'd never be able to see again.

And it was about time, wasn't it? Maybe, this was what Dream wanted, after all. Maybe he wanted Tommy to break, and to leave on his own accord.

Tommy felt a single tear run down his reddened cheek, inhaling and exhaling softly.

What was the point?

He loved people; he flourished around them. There was nothing that filled his heart with as much joy as being around his friends, his family. And now that he was alone? Nothing was left, there was no need to pretend.

Would he be up there, if someone had visited? Would Tommy sit down right on the edge, feet dangling metres high in the air, if Tubbo had come to see him?

He missed him, so much. How could he have let this happened?

Tommy would have never done this to Tubbo, he'd have defended him, fought for him until his last breath.

But life wasn't always fair; and sometimes, the people you trusted didn't deserve it.

Tommy felt ready. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard screams of protest. But they didn't matter, he tuned them out.

The sun had set, it was time to wave the stars goodbye.

Maybe he'd see his friends as he closed his eyes, maybe it would feel like him jumping off a small surface as Tubbo jokingly chased him. Maybe, instead of the wind, he'd hear his friends laugh with glee.

Tommy was smiling; for the first time in so long, he felt something akin to happiness in his chest.

As he looked down, slowly sliding off the block.

Closer and closer, he felt weightless already.

But something felt heavy.

His body froze.

It was as if time had stopped; Tommy didn't feel anything anymore.

He was staring at the ruins of his house, and Dream's words rang in his head.

What was happening? He was so confused, his head was hurting so badly, he felt like he was going to throw up.

There was a war in his head; part of him wanted to be free, the other refused to let go.

The voices he’d been tuning out were overwhelmingly loud now, screeching, were his ears bleeding? How had he not heard them before?

And Tommy was caught in between, trying to stay strong and not break down in tears.

Why, why could he not have this one fucking thing?! Why did he have to stop himself in the last minute, for what?!

He was doomed, alone, exiled; he had no future. The days of happiness were over, he'd never be able to shake off the loneliness deeply rooted in his heart.

He'd never be able to trust again.

His friends, they'd left him. Betrayed him. Oh? That was right. Shamelessly, they'd shamelessly allowed for him to get there.

They wanted him dead, maybe it was their plan all along.

Dream had cared, he was his friend, what had he cared for?

Tommy's head felt so tight, he wanted to scream but he couldn't open his mouth.

Dream cared. He cared. Why else would he visit? He was the only one who cared. Tommy was his friend; he didn't want Tommy to go.

But he'd sent him here, hadn't he?

Something in Tommy's fragile heart shattered, and he didn't even feel the tears anymore.

Dream had sent him here. He was just like the rest of them.

But he had visited! But for what?

And Tommy felt like an idiot; he gripped his hair and pulled it as he shut his eyes tightly, slowly swaying back and forth.

He had been so stupid, so fucking blind.

Dream was like the rest of them; he didn't care. He was never Tommy's friend; he wasn't there to keep him company.

He was there to watch him.

Of course, how could he have been so blind?!

Dream had always hated him, why would he suddenly care? No, it was all a ruse, it was all a lie.

Dream was there to watch him, he loved seeing Tommy in pain.

He loved seeing him give into the only affection he could receive, without questions, just desperate for any kind of warmth.

Dream had manipulated him, he'd made him think he was the villain, he was the problem.

But it was Dream, wasn't it? He was the evil one, he was the one that deserved this torment, not Tommy.

As if touching fire, Tommy backed off from the edge, panting as reality slowly started returning all around him.

He had been so blind; finally, he could see.

He saw the destruction; he saw the prison that was this place. Dream loved to torture him, manipulate him, make him think it was all his fault.

Almost, he'd given in. If it had taken a second longer, Dream would have found Tommy asleep the next time, never to open his eyes again.

Would he feel pity, would Dream feel regret?

Tommy didn't care, because the emptiness in his heart was starting to be replaced by blind rage.

He was up in the skies; he was ready to jump. He was so close, he wanted it so desperately, the realization alone was enough to make him throw up off the side of the block.

Suddenly, his knees felt weak, and Tommy hugged them tightly, burying his face.

He was done feeling weak, he was so done feeling helpless.

Dream had no power over him, why had he readily given it to the other? Why had he allowed for Dream to poison his mind, break his spirit?

Tommy's body fell out of the trance, and he felt his fingers twitch.

Oh, how he loathed Dream. How he loathed this place. Dream and the place were one and the same; isolation, agony, and death.

Tommy needed to get away; he needed to run.

Dream had said he'd not come back as much, maybe Tommy would be able to run away far enough.

Oh, the bastard underestimated him.

He saw him as a child; weak and defenceless.

But Tommy? Tommy would be the nightmare Dream didn’t expect.

Smiling, Tommy stood up and jumped, his head was empty this time.

He landed in water, safely. And all the emotions came rushing in.

Oh, this was not the end. He would not give up without a fight.

Tommy stepped out of the water, walking towards his prison.

He'd escape, he'd get his discs back. And oh, he'd show Dream that he had no power over Tommy.

What did he have to lose? Nothing.

Dream should have thought about that beforehand.

Tommy had nothing to lose, but he had so much to give. And Dream would be on the receiving end.

He found armour; he found so many things.

Tommy felt his heartbeat pick up, and he looked behind him, one last time.

Tommy was not going to go down without a fight.

The further he got from the place, from the tower, the more he started to feel alive.

There was so much more Dream would have to do to break his spirit entirely.

Tommy was not going to let him do that.

Dream had broken parts of him.

So, Tommy was going to cut him with the shards.


End file.
